Page 73 of The Truth Serum
“I know, but understand,” he said as his gaze took in everyone in the room. “I am risking a great deal by telling you this. If someone else finds out, if even a hint—”
“We won’t say a word,” Kynthea promised.
Ras nodded. But Becca said nothing. And he would not start until she gave her word.
Finally, she nodded. “Very well. I will not speak of this to anyone. No matter what it is.”
He could see that she was imaging all sorts of dastardly things. The risk, of course, was that she wouldn’t believe him. Once he told her everything, she could laugh it off as imagination. Which was exactly what she’d done this morning.
“Quit stalling,” Ras grumbled. “What have you been about?”
Might as well say it boldly. “Starting ten years ago, back when…” He glanced at Becca. “When I left home and did not return to school, I began working for the Crown.”
“Working?” Kynthea asked.
“Spying. For the Foreign Office.”
Ras blew out a heavy breath. “I thought as much,” he said. Of course he did. The man knew him that well. But the ladies looked at each other with confusion. They were not trained in the ways of war, so it was a surprise. Which meant he had to explain.
“In any war,” he said, “information is everything. Messages, troop movements, Napoleon’s secret plans. If we don’t know what he’s doing, we can’t plan.”
“All your trips away,” Ras said. “You were going to France?”
“I was going everywhere. I’m a fair sailor. That was the first thing I learned. I worked as a waterman for nearly a year, then I was put on a ship to Spain, where I carried messages back and forth.” He shrugged. “That’s what I did, but my real skill is in being friendly. People know things. A war isn’t something that can be hidden. People hear about troop movements and supply caravans. They see important things, and they like talking about them with their friends.”
Becca bit her lip. “And Madame Joguet’s maid?”
“Heidi Frid.”
“She is one of your friends?”
“She is. She despises Napoleon as deeply as it is possible to hate someone. She lost her husband and two sons to this war.”
“But isn’t she French?” Kynthea asked.
“She’s of German ancestry, but Napoleon is the one she blames. I got her and her daughter to England. She has helped me ever since.”
“By spying on Madame and Monsieur?”
“Of course not,” he lied. “She is someone who knows my past. We talk when one of us needs a friend.” He lifted his chin. “I will not endanger her.” And that was the boldest lie he’d ever spoken. Every day she reported on the Joguets was a risk. Though, to be fair, he didn’t believe the pair were murderous. If Heidi were discovered, she would be turned out without a reference, and he would help her find a new position.
Meanwhile, Becca spoke quietly, her words cold. “You promised not to lie to us again.”
His gaze sharpened on her. “What? I mean, I know.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “There are levels, aren’t there? You can tell us about yourself, but not others. You can reveal your own secrets, but not—”
“Becca,” he interrupted, stopping her words. He didn’t need her exposing him so clearly. But what could he say? “Life is a great deal more complicated than I ever imagined. Warcraft, even more so.”
“And now you want me to help. You want to pull me into a web of lies and deceit.”
For the good of England! For the war effort. For all the soldiers fighting on the Continent right now. Not because he wanted to risk her or involve her in any way. But he couldn’t hide from telling her the bald truth. Especially when it involved her.
“Yes, I do.”
“And you trust me to do that?”
Didn’t she hear him before? “I am trusting you with my life right now. If the wrong people learn who I am, a beating by the docks is the least of what will happen to me.” He sighed. “I wouldn’t bring you into this if I had another option.”
